After a few dreamy days exploring Lisbon and adjusting to European toddler time (read: 3 a.m. wake-ups and 2-hour naps at inopportune times), we packed up our rental car, loaded snacks, sunscreen, and strollers, and hit the road for the Algarve—Portugal’s famous southern coast. Just over two hours later, we arrived at the Westin Resort in Salgados, where palm trees, wide beaches, and a slower pace greeted us.

Beach Days, Pirate Hunts & Poolside Play

If Lisbon was about history and hustle, the Algarve was about adventure through the eyes of a child. Every morning, we’d wander down to the beach, armed with buckets and shovels and our secret stash of “shark teeth” we’d brought from home (thank you, Amazon). Samuel believed he was finding treasure—and honestly, who were we to argue? Buried pirate gold (a few loose euros), seashells of every color, and “shark teeth” became the highlights of the mornings.

When the sun got high, we’d retreat back to the resort pool, which quickly became our daily hangout. The hotel’s playground was another lifesaver—giving Samuel freedom to climb and run and the grass for Lucca to walk and crawl, while we took five whole minutes to sip a coffee, a spritz or sneak a bite of pastel de nata.

One of our favorite meals that week was at Calixtos Beach Bar, a toes-in-the-sand kind of place where kids can play while grown-ups enjoy fresh seafood and the waves. The food was simple, fresh, and exactly what we needed after a long day of sand-covered toddlers and sun-drenched exploring.

Zoomarine, Bone Chapels & DIY Charcuterie

We couldn’t resist a trip to Zoomarine, a mix of marine park, water park, small amusement park, and total toddler dreamland. From the moment we walked through the gates, it felt like stepping into a world designed entirely for little ones and their slightly tired but very willing parents.

The dolphin show was a highlight—beautiful, emotional, and surprisingly captivating. Our toddler sat totally still, mouth open, eyes glued to the tank as the dolphins leapt through the air in perfect rhythm. He was whispering “are they going to do that again!” before it even ended. And I’ll be honest: I teared up more than once. There’s something about watching your child experience wonder for the first time that hits harder than expected.

Our baby was less interested in the show and more into the splash pads, where she toddled around shrieking with delight. There were rides just her size, shady spots to rest, and a surprisingly good variety of food options. The whole park was clean, well-organized, and easy to navigate with strollers—basically the unicorn of theme parks.

We stayed much longer than planned, because every time we thought it was time to leave, someone spotted another ride, animal encounter, or snack stand. The roller coaster and Jurassic dinosaur ride were favorites with Samuel. We finally peeled ourselves away around late afternoon, sun-kissed, sticky, and very, very happy—with two very tired kids who both fell asleep in the car before we even hit the main road.

The next morning, we felt adventurous again and decided on a little detour to Faro. We started with breakfast at Chelsea, a bright and cozy café that felt like a little slice of Brooklyn had been plopped down on a Portuguese street corner. Strong coffee, fresh juice, avocado toast and a lovely shakshuka, my favorite breakfast.

Then came something totally unexpected—and a little eerie in the most fascinating way: the Capela dos Ossos, or Chapel of Bones, tucked just behind a quiet square in Faro. I had read about it briefly before our trip, but nothing quite prepares you for the sight of an entire chapel lined, floor to ceiling, with real human bones and skulls. It’s sobering and surreal all at once—an architectural memento mori built in the 1800s as both a spiritual reminder and a practical solution to an overcrowded cemetery.

Inside, it’s dark and cool and hauntingly quiet. The walls are covered in neatly arranged bones, skulls carefully stacked into rows, arches made entirely of femurs. There’s even a solemn inscription above the entry that reads: “We bones that are here, await yours.” It’s not morbid so much as it is humbling—a way to reflect on time, mortality, and what really matters in this life.

We knew going in that this might not be the ideal toddler-friendly stop, and as we approached, it was clear the double stroller wasn’t going to fit through the narrow entrance. So, like good travel teammates, my husband and I took turns—one stayed outside in the small shaded courtyard with the kids while the other slipped inside for a few quiet minutes to take it in.

Afterward, we wandered Faro’s old town, which felt slower and sleepier than the coastal resort towns. We meandered down narrow cobblestone alleys, peeked into courtyards filled with orange trees, and found little shops tucked behind tiled facades. We of course stopped at a playground, did some swinging and sliding and continued on our way. It was quiet, colorful, and the kind of walk that didn’t need a destination.

On our way back to the hotel, we stopped at the grocery store, which is quickly becoming one of my favorite family travel rituals. There’s something oddly comforting about picking out local cheeses, meats, olives and of course wine, while the kids choose their own fruit or cookies. Back at the hotel, we put together a full charcuterie spread—nothing fancy, just a plate in our rooms kitchen, a bottle of wine, and the kind of meal you eat barefoot on a hotel balcony with music playing from your phone and kids snuggled up in pajamas.

It was one of those nights that didn’t look like much from the outside—but felt like everything. No reservations, no schedule, just a little pause in the middle of a very full trip. And those are often the moments I remember most.

Boat Rides, Baby Dolphins & Miniature Cars

Midweek, we made our way to Lagos, one of the Algarve’s most picturesque towns, where Praia da Dona Ana awaited with golden cliffs and turquoise waters. This beach looks like it belongs on the front of a postcard—or in a movie scene. The sand was soft and warm under our feet, and the cliffs rose up around the cove like nature’s own amphitheater, shielding us from the wind and making everything feel just a little more peaceful.

We set up camp near the rocks, pulled out beach toys, and settled into one of those rare family travel rhythms where everyone is content at the same time. The waves were calm and gentle, just right for toddler splashing and bravely wading into the shallows. Our 3-year-old ran back and forth from the water to the sand like it was his full-time job, collecting shells and pointing out “pirate treasure”. The baby was happiest on the beach towel, digging with her shovel and occasionally eating sand when we weren’t looking. The other great part about these beaches in Portugal is that they almost all have a restaurant at the base of the cliffs on the sand. Perfect for lunch or a midday drink and snack.

There were no schedules, no tours, no big plans—just sunshine, sandy toes, and salty snacks, and it was exactly what we needed. It was one of those days that reminded me why we take these trips in the first place: not to see everything, but to slow down and soak in the little moments that get lost in the chaos of everyday life.

After rinsing off and wrestling two sandy kids back into clothes (why is this always the hardest part of the beach?), we drove back to the hotel and then walked to the Marriott next door for dinner. And honestly? It was perfect. Sometimes the best restaurant is simply the one that has high chairs, crayons, and doesn’t require driving or changing clothes. The food was great and Samuel and Lucca’s favorite because it was pesto pasta, but the real win was being able to linger over a glass of wine.

The true highlight of the entire trip came the next morning on our boat tour from Albufeira to the Benagil Caves. We knew we’d see stunning rock formations and sea caves that photos never do justice—but what we didn’t know was that we’d be followed, for nearly ten magical minutes, by a pod of wild dolphins.

It started with one dorsal fin off in the distance, and then suddenly, ten dolphins appeared, swimming alongside our boat, weaving in and out of the waves like they were playing with us. And then we saw it—a tiny baby dolphin, keeping up with its mama, leaping out of the water. Even the crew stopped what they were doing to watch, you could feel the whole group fall quiet.

I had actual goosebumps. The water sparkled, the dolphins swam so close you could see the spray from their breath, and Samuel sat completely still watching—except for Lucca who kept trying to leap out of our arms, pretty sure she wanted to ride a dolphin. No screens, no distractions, just pure beauty. It’s one of those core memories I know we’ll all carry with us, long after the kids forget where we even were.

After the boat ride, we headed back to the hotel to wash off the sea spray and rehydrate our over-sunned little travelers. But the day wasn’t over yet. Once the sun set, we returned to Albufeira to explore the town for the evening. The cobblestone streets were buzzing with families, street performers, and tourists wandering between restaurants.

And then came one of our toddler’s biggest highlights: driving a miniature car along the promenade. For just 10 euros, he got to “steer” his very own Bugatti while we followed behind, filming and laughing. He took it so seriously—like a little Portuguese cab driver on a mission—and it was everything.

Dinner that night was at Café Certo, and let me tell you—this place was a gem in every sense of the word. Tucked into a quieter corner just off the main square in Albufeira, it didn’t scream for attention with flashy signs or tourist traps. From the moment we arrived, the staff greeted us with genuine warmth and the waiter immediately brought out a high chair without us even having to ask and offered a smaller plate and utensils for our toddler. It was such a small gesture, but after a long day, it meant everything.

And the food? Incredible. Every dish we ordered was flavorful, fresh, and beautifully plated. This is the kind of restaurant where you will want to try everything, and we did just that! We had the bread basket, hummus, olives, chorizo, charcuterie, salmon spread, octopus and bruschetta with sardines. Everything was the best thing I had eaten the entire trip! Our baby munched on bits of bread and cheese while we chatted with the waiter, who crouched down to smile and wave at her between courses. No one looked twice at our stroller, no one sighed when our toddler dropped a fork, and no one rushed us—it felt like we were exactly where we were supposed to be. This is one of the reasons I love Europe so much, they make families feel welcomed not like they are a nuisance.

If you’re ever in Albufeira with kids (or honestly, even without), go to Café Certo. Trust me—it’s the kind of place that sneaks up on you and becomes one of the best parts of your trip.

On the way back to our car, we pushed the stroller slowly, taking our time. The kids were totally wiped out but still trying so hard to stay awake.

The town was still alive, music playing from a few restaurants, and people out walking around. We just kind of wandered, not really in a hurry, doing a bit of people-watching as we went. Families with kids, couples out for dinner, little kids chasing each other down the sidewalk and plenty of young adults just starting their night while ours was ending.

It was nothing fancy, just one of those nice, easy moments after a long day—when everyone’s tired in the best kind of way and we both silently agreed: this was one of those golden travel days.

The Day the Car Broke Down (And Why We Still Love Portugal)

Our final day in the Algarve started with breakfast at Rutz and some last beach time before it was time to say goodbye. We packed up the car, said our goodbyes to the sea, and hit the road back to Lisbon.

And then… we made a tiny mistake.

We accidentally put diesel in a gas car. (Yes, it happens. Yes, it’s wildly expensive. No, we didn’t know until the car sputtered to a stop at a toll station an hour outside Lisbon.)

Cue four hours of waiting on the side of the highway with two exhausted kids, a broken-down car, and the realization that we might miss bedtime and dinner by several hours. But here’s the thing—we were helped by the kindest stranger, who went completely out of his way to make sure we were okay. He called the right people, translated, reassured us, and even helped entertain the kids while we waited for the cab and tow truck.

Eventually, we made it to Tivoli Oriente Hotel in Lisbon around 10 p.m., hungry, exhausted and very ready for sleep. We ordered room service—burgers and fries never tasted so good—and jumped into bed for our final night in Portugal.

What We’ll Remember Most:

The way our kids lit up hunting for “treasure” on the beach.
The dolphin moment that felt straight out of a nature documentary.
The tiny car Samuel “drove” like it was his job.
The kind stranger who reminded us that sometimes the best part of travel is the people you meet when things go wrong.
And the quiet nights, sharing cheese and wine in hotel rooms after long days, feeling tired but so full—of gratitude, of memories, of love.

Portugal didn’t just give us a vacation. It gave us moments of magic in the middle of mayhem, beauty in the messy, and proof that even the most chaotic travel days can turn into the stories we tell for years